Lament
by IneffablyKT
Summary: Gracia is a mother by nature, and a wife at heart.


Gracia can hardly keep it together when little Elicia asks, "Mommy, When is Daddy coming home?"

Maes has been - God, she can't even think it - for three weeks and it's all she can do from breaking down where she stands in the kitchen, making dinner.

She calls from over her shoulder, "I've told you, sweetheart, Daddy isn't coming home." She narrowly avoids the break in her voice she knows happens every time she speaks of him to Elicia. She's about to say that Daddy is in a better place, a place where he can watch over them and send them his love, when suddenly she realizes that she's cutting up more potatoes than she needs for the vegetable stew she's putting together. She furrows her brow for a second, before the wind is knocked out of her faster and harder than she's ever experienced.

She's made enough for a family of three. Not two.

Immediately, Gracia is filled with a grief so overwhelming, she drops the knife in her hand and takes a step back, bringing both her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound of the sob that slips from her throat.

This isn't the first time she's caught herself doing something a woman with a family would do; only last week, she found one of Maes' shirts in the wash and even now, does not know why it was there in the first place.

(An idea did occur to her, but she stifled it before she could properly ponder it, too afraid the conclusion at which she would arrive would make her heart ache.)

Her eyes and nose burn with the onset of tears, and dimly she thinks if Elicia comes into the kitchen and notices Mommy's wet eyes, Gracia will say, "The onions are just hurting my eyes, sweetie, that's all."

Then, the very idea that she has to think of an excuse to tell her daughter why she's shedding tears doubles her anguish and this time, she cannot stop the drops of salt water from falling, shutting her eyes tight and hardly feeling them cascade across the knuckles still across her mouth.

Her body spasms with the sobs she's doing her very best to keep from escaping her, and it's beginning to hurt, not being able to breathe, so she quickly drops to her knees behind the counter that divides the kitchen and living room. Bowing her head deeply, she pushes her hands away from her mouth to encompass her face in its entirety as she allows herself a few quiet moans aimed at the floor. Tears rain silently onto her lap and Gracia is reminded of the rain her husband was so fond of, if only because it left his best friend looking like a drowned cat.

The warm memory of Maes sitting on the couch, hooting about Roy's annoyance and irritation at his friend's endless teasing and jabs at how useless the colonel was in the rain, brings a soft smile to Gracia's face for a wonderful moment.

In an instant, she feels like her throat is not so thick, her tongue lighter in her mouth . The sound of Maes' laughter rings clearly in her mind, his easy grin and crinkled eyes perfectly vivid as the golden light of the late afternoon sun pouring in from the kitchen window.

Maes… isn't really gone. He is where, one day not too soon, Gracia will meet him again. She knows he will greet her with warm open arms and a warmer smile. She will tell him of all the things she yearns to tell him, will supply him every detail of their daughter's life and she knows it will be a conversation that will last an eternity. It is a conversation Gracia looks forward to very much, but she will wait until it is her time to join her husband in the afterlife.

Most importantly, though, she will raise their daughter with stories of how he flashed pictures of his precious family to anyone and everyone, how he was the best of friends with a great man who aimed to be Fuhrer, how he had taken in two boys without a home and showed them love and compassion and understanding.

She vows to keep him in their home, in their lives, in every possible way. And in her heart, where she will always keep him close, feel his love.

Steadily, she raises herself from the floor, wipes away the trail of tears from her cheeks, and resumes dicing potatoes.

When Elicia comes tottering into the kitchen, her favorite doll clutched to her chest, Gracia does not hesitate to smile fondly at her daughter, and tell her dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Elicia's eyes seem to brighten at this, and with a happy, "Okay, Mommy!" skips off to play with her doll in the living room until she is called to eat.

Gracia turns back to the pot of stew to finish adding the last ingredients when a thought occurs to her:

Elicia has her father's smile.

Nothing keeps the contentment from warming her heart.


End file.
